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to meet him. He had assumed that, since he could be seen, someone would hurry to make capital of the fatigue from his recent exertions. However, it was not until he was swallowed up into the dimmer air near the center of the field that anyone showed an interest in crossing swords with him. He was again challenged by two knights, and this time he had little hope of an easy or quick victory over them. Fulk de Cantelu and Henry of Cornhill were not novices, and they were seeking to revenge themselves for their unexpected loss in the jousting lists. If they were successful in their enterprise, Ian knew he would not come alive off the field. |
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Nonetheless, Ian had none of the sense of despair that had gripped him the previous day. His experience in war was wide and varied. He was still relatively fresh. The nick in his side was giving him no trouble. Cheerfully he shouted aloud the names of his attackers, swung his horse wide and spurred it sharply, so that it leapt forward toward Henry's right side, leaving Fulk, who was on Henry's left, blocked by his own partner. The surprise generated by this move and the unexpected angle of Ian's attack permitted him to land two mighty blows. One caught Henry on the helm, and the other smashed into his ribs. Both helm and mail heldthe armor was of the best qualitybut Ian heard the man cry out and knew he was hurt. |
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Wisely, Ian made no attempt to follow up that success with any further effort to belabor his opponent. Henry was hurt but by no means unable to fight back or defend himself. Prodding with his left knee and spurring with his right heel, Ian turned his mount still further in the direction he was headed so that he was now behind Cornhill. Meanwhile, Fulk had recovered from his surprise and ridden forward around Henry to come up on Ian's left side. The move was grossly unimaginative; in fact, it was exactly what Ian hoped and expected. |
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Because Ian had sense enough not to linger in his |
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